By Kendra Holliday | December 4, 2017
Sometimes, my partner Matthew stops by my place for lunch. And by lunch, I mean eating my pussy and fucking the shit out of me.
I’ll be right in the middle of my day, getting shit done and on a roll, and then he picks me up and shakes me like a snow globe
I inevitably curl up in the soft blankies, all disheveled and exhausted and ready for a nap!
Obviously, it’s not good for me to be a lazy bitch. 🙁
The last time we had a power nooner, he stood up and dressed, and I did my usual “Lady of Leisure” routine of pulling the covers up over me.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, tucking his shirt in and buckling his belt. “You’re getting up with me this time. You have to go to the store, so you’re leaving with me.”
I whined, I fussed, but he dragged me out of bed (literally – by the ankle) and I stumbled to the bathroom to check the damage.
Oh my fucking god, I looked like Aileen Wuornos.
I started brushing my hair and touching up my makeup, but he came up behind me and announced, “You have four minutes, and then you’re going out the door. It’s up to you on whether you’re wearing pants or not.”
CRAP! Fucking Task Master. It was COLD out, so I scrambled for my clothes and threw them on. I slipped back into the bathroom to make myself more presentable –
UGH! I grabbed my phone, my bag, tried distracting him with aimless chatter…
“Out the door. Now.”
“Let me grab my keys!” I protested.
And then we were out in the harsh light of day.
“There,” he said, kissing me on the forehead, “Now go be productive, My Love.”
I hope I got the pecker tracks off my cheek!